


Pigtails and Inkwells

by icepixie



Series: Pigtails and Inkwells [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3382262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icepixie/pseuds/icepixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You were one of those horrid little boys who pulled girls' pigtails at school, weren't you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pigtails and Inkwells

**Author's Note:**

> Set at some indeterminate point in the future.

"'Night, Marge," Agent Thompson said as he sidled behind Peggy's desk to pull his coat and hat off the rack on the wall. They were the only two left in the SSR bullpen at this late hour.

Peggy shifted in her chair so she could regard him coolly. "You know, I really hate that name."

He smirked. "Why do you think I use it?"

Her forehead creased and her eyes narrowed in a glare that should've sent him up in flames. Instead, he continued to smirk at her, so smugly arrogant she could scream.

"You were one of those horrid little boys who pulled girls' pigtails at school, weren't you?"

"Agent Carter," he said, suddenly all offended innocence, "I'm insulted. I never pulled a girl's pigtail." He paused to wag a finger at her. "I always dipped it in the inkwell."

She sighed heavily and, shaking her head, returned to her paperwork while he laughed quietly at his own joke. She heard rustling behind her—probably him putting on his coat—that she pointedly ignored. Finally, she heard footsteps on the wooden floor as he started to leave.

And then she felt a distinct, deliberate, and downright painful tug on one of her curls.

"Jack!" she yelped, half-rising from her seat. "I'm going to—!" But he was already speeding toward the front of the room, and ducked through the door before she could finish her threat. Muttering various imprecations against his character, she sank back down in her chair, vowing revenge. Perhaps salt in his coffee the next time she passed by his desk. Or a leaky pen in his coat pocket—that would be satisfying.

She noticed the folded piece of paper on her desk a few moments later. Going against her better judgment—Jack had left it there, and given what might charitably be called the sense of humor he'd been demonstrating lately, she couldn't rule out the possibility that it contained a spider, and while she was hardly _afraid_ of them, that didn't mean she had to _like_ them—she picked it up and carefully unfolded it.

_Too bad we use ballpoints now._

Peggy gritted her teeth. Whether it was from frustration or to keep herself from smiling, she was not planning to explore.


End file.
